


Late Night

by enderfetch



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, this is literally pure fluff tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6699448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enderfetch/pseuds/enderfetch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your name is DAVE STRIDER. You were just walking back from your job; ways to dodge your roommate if he happened to be awake running through your head. He was always ready to pull a shitty prank on your ass, whether it was throwing a cake in your face the minute you walked in the door or hiding a bucket full of water on top of the doorframe. You always had to be ready with Egbert."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caligulasculler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caligulasculler/gifts).



> God, the ending was so rushed I'm so sorry.  
> Anyways I wrote this for my wonderful boyfriend's birthday!! I hope you like it dear!!  
> This is also probably the longest one-shot I've ever written, and hell I might write more in the future ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

God, you fucking hated your job.

Your name is DAVE STRIDER. You were just walking back from your job; ways to dodge your roommate if he happened to be awake running through your head. He was always ready to pull a shitty prank on your ass, whether it was throwing a cake in your face the minute you walked in the door or hiding a bucket full of water on top of the doorframe. You always had to be ready with Egbert.

It wasn’t that you hated your job, per se. In fact, you loved it! DJing for drunk ass party goers all night, giving them the pleasure of your sweet james, it was fucking sick. But you hated the long ass hours and your shitty transphobic boss and how you always had to sleep at odd times so you could never go out with your friends. Actually, it was mainly your boss. You could deal with the other shit. The guy was sexist too, he thought he could treat you like scum just because of your damn vagina and that you were “lucky to get the job at all.”

You had walked up this rickety fire escape every other night. Take on extra hours at the club (someone’s got to help pay the extra bills), sneak out before your shift ends and pretend like nothing happened the next day, sneak into your apartment and find John asleep after a movie binge. The guy worked like clockwork, but you didn’t mind.

Speaking of clockwork, you had just reached your sweet ass setup to get the fire escape ladder down. At first, you just chucked the pocket knife you had up there; but that rarely landed, ended up lost if you missed, and you had to commonly walk in shame into your apartment and get caught by your dorky roommate. However, you had found some shitty old rope and pullies, and decided to use some barebone knowledge of machines you had. You started by tying it up to the release handle, pulled the rope down, and tied the end behind some old dumpster. Maybe even slathered the rope with some shit (not actual shit, hopefully) to try to hide it better. Honestly you didn’t care if anyone used it, it was a sweet ass contraption you wanted to show off. The problem was getting in trouble with the landowner and shit. Anyways, a tied knot at the end stopped the rope from going all the way up as you released it, blocked by a shitty old board you found. It wasn’t the more inconspicuous nor most efficient way to set it up, but hey, what else could you do?

You untied the rope and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Nothing happened. You groaned, looking up at where the rope was stopped from retracting fully, and tugged on it. Once,  _ snap _ , twice,  _ snap _ , thr- OH HOLY SHIT IT’S FALLING.

Okay, you kinda over exaggerated in your reaction there. Maybe. You just hadn’t expect it to  _ fall _ , it never falls. You had set it up so damn well, the worst that could happen is that you have to pull it a few times to build up strength for it. You picked up the end of the rope and was faced with a tattered end. Fucking great. Now you had to get  _ more  _ rope and walk  _ all  _ the way up to your apartment and...

Or you could just try to grab the ladder yourself. What could go wrong with that?

You walked right underneath the ladder. Hey, it wasn’t too far up, right? It’s not like you couldn’t even reach the cupboard in your apartment. Totally not. You jumped up to reach for it, not even getting your fingers to graze by the end. You huffed and tried again to no avail. Again. Again.

Eventually you let out a cry of frustration as you stomped over to the dumpster, trying to tug it over to the ladder. It made a loud scraping noise as it moved, and you were damn sure you’ve woken up the whole neighborhood. Whatever, too late to go back now.

Just as you had the garbage can about halfway to the ladder, you heard the familiar creaking of someone walking on the fire escape. Shit. You didn’t want to get caught out here in the dead of night, and you knew for fucking sure that it was going to be that weird old Mrs. Crocker. You swear, she was at least 90 and she somehow still managed to have long, almost unmanageable hair (although you wouldn’t doubt if it was a wig), always wore a crown, and just loved to antagonize you. A few times you had been caught by her, and you had been terrified to find out she had no problems chasing you to your apartment on the rickety old fire escape.

As you looked up you expected to hear another shitty lecture by her but… she wasn’t there. Instead there was this timid, chubby man walking down to the ladder. He saw you and stumbled over, and you noticed more clanging than there should have been on the rusty metal. You stepped back and kept an eye on the strange boy approaching you.

“Hey, uh… what are you doing?” he asked, his voice laced with a hispanic accent.

“The fuck does it look like?” you huffed.

“Good question, no clue.”  
“I’m trying to get the damn ladder down.”

“Uh… why…?”

“I’m getting into my apartment, duh.”

The guy walked over to the railing, looking down at you as he said, “Can’t you just… take an elevator up to your apartment?”

“Then my roommate will be on my ass for being out all night. I want my fragile ass feelings to be intact by the morning, uh…” you answered. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! Right, my name is Tavros. Tavros Nitram.”

“A’ight, yo, I’m Dave,” you said, walking over to the ladder. “Could you get this stupid thing down for me?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” He quickly released the latch on the ladder. It slammed down in front of you, and you gave the man a nod before climbing up. You patted him on the shoulder as you held a hand out for him.  
“Thanks, bro. Owe you one,” you said.

He smiled at you as he shook your hand. “Yeah, no problem, uh… bro.”

“Where do you live, anyways? I’ve lived here for a long ass time and I haven’t seen ya,” you said as you started to walk up the stairs.

He followed you, although his movements were awkward and shaky; you ended up having to slow down. “Third floor, my apartment’s at, I think. I live with my friend, Aradia! She would, uh… probably kill me if she found me out here, heh. I shouldn’t even be out of the apartment.”

“Why not?”

“I got new prosthetics, uh… a few days ago?” he sighed, gesturing to his legs. “It’s better than a wheelchair, buuuut I’m not supposed to go on stairs.”

“Bro, what the fuck? Why’d you come out here, then?”

“I heard noises and, I thought someone might be hurt,” he said, frowning.

“Oh my god, dude, you could’ve fallen and… fuck I don’t know, died!” you groaned out.

“But I didn’t!”

“... Fuck you, you’ve got a point there.”

“Ha! But yeah, uh, I guess I won’t do that again?” he said and suddenly stopped, looking into an open window. “So, this is my apartment and I should… probably go.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Hey, wanna hang out later? I know this hella sweet coffee shop nearby we can go to sometime.”

“Really? I mean, sure! Do you have a phone or something?”

“Yeah man, here you go.” You handed your phone to him, and he quickly typed something. As he handed it back to you, you noticed a little grin on his face that was actually pretty adorable.

“Cool, later, bro,” you said, pocketing your phone and starting to walk away.

“Later, Dave!” you heard him call back.

…

You had been texting Tavros everyday until the weekend rolled over. You had found out one glaring thing about him; he was a fucking dork. He messaged you at 1am about a new Pokemon tournament that he had been looking forward to or sent you pictures of his favorite parts of Peter Pan. And honestly, you loved all of it. He just got so excited and so surprised when you let him talk that you just wanted to hear him talk on for hours.

Something that you loved, too, was that he listened to your hella awesome rants. He was a little weirded out at first but soon he retaliated with his own sick ass burns; he even rapped with you. While he was a little rusty at it, you had to admit that he was one of the best rapping partners you’ve ever had.

You also found out that he was a trans guy, just like you were. He had a way luckier break than you, though. The guy’s family was one of the most supportive you’ve heard of, if anything violently supportive. If someone misgendered Tavros, Rufioh would go and date the person- then proceed to dump the person in some of the shittiest ways possible. Your brother, Dirk, at least accepted you, but he got kinda awkward when you talked about it. Tavros’s dad was fucking great about it, too. You were lucky if you could get Bro to talk to you after you came out. It was fucking shitty, but it’s just a fact you’ve accepted. It was fucking amazing and made you feel a lot safer knowing he was trans too, but god damn would you do anything for that life.

You and him had very different schedules, which made it really hard to talk to him. He worked at a local game store that his dad and brother owned, and worked all day. You basically slept most of the day and worked at night. However, both you and him were off work during the weekend, so you decided it was a good idea to get off your ass and go meet up with him finally. You and him decided to meet at the coffee shop you had mentioned to him that one fateful night. You took the shitty car you and John shared to the cafe and saw Tavros sitting outside. As you got out of your car he smiled at you, getting up and making his way over.

“Hey, Nitram. What’s up?” you asked.

“Oh yeah, I just got out of work. Working Saturdays is, really shitty honestly. There’s a ton of people and it’s, really hard to keep up with,” he answered. “What’s been up with you?”

You walked in the store, shrugging as you spoke. “Normal shit, really. Been on a roll with spitting out sick raps lately, though.”

“Yeah I noticed, your texts have, uh… made me need to up my game. Yo,” he smiled awkwardly. Holy shit, that was fucking adorable.

You two ordered some shitty coffee and sat down, and you found yourself admiring his features. His dark skin looked flawless in the light, and his face was so chubby and rounded, it was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his eyes light up whenever he’s happy and his toothy grin made you fucking melt.

As you looked at him, you realized just how gay your thoughts were. Shit. Did you like the guy? He was adorable, and funny, and smart, and interesting, and… Well, fuck. You really did like this kid. There’s no way he liked you, though. Fuck it, just ignore the feelings and enjoy your time with him.

“Shit man, I doubt you gotta up your game. Your raps put mine in the fucking ground, Tupac would be fucking proud of how dead ass yours are.”

“Heh, thanks! Yours are pretty fire, too, you know,” he said, beaming at your compliment.

As you two got your coffee, the cafe quieted down. You two glanced at each other before a booming voice called out, “Thank you all for your patience, it’s time for our weekly poetry slam.”

“Ah shit, forgot about this,” you groaned. “There’s this dumbass poetry slam they have where they talk about their edgy ass feelings.”

Tavros looked up at the makeshift stage, a grin crossing his face. “Hey, we should show everyone our hella raps. I mean uh, they’re technically poems, right?”

“Nitram, that is the best idea I’ve ever fucking heard,” you gave a small smile, grabbing his hand and pulling him up to the stage.

You yelled to a worker that the “Bitchin’ Ass Tavros and Dave are going to spew some awesome poetry” as you two climbed onto the stage. He had this big, dorky smile on his face as you looked at him.

“Yo Tav, wanna start out by giving me a beat? Join in whenever,” you said as he nodded, starting to beatbox- pretty well, actually. A grin crossed your face as you turned to the confused crowd.

_ Now listen here y’all it’s time for the sickest rap you’ve ever heard _

_ I doubt y’all had thought you’d hear a rap here, but you better reconsider _

_ You’ll all shit your pants with how great we are _

_ Snoop Dogg will need a smoke after he hears the rap here and far _

_ Now what are we spewing out, you might ask _

_ Let me hand it over to the cutie Nitram- _

You weren’t even able to finish your line before your cheeks flushed. Tavros’s beat dropped as you looked at him, and you saw that he was blushing, too. Well, at least you’re not the only embarrassed one in this situation. You heard footsteps coming towards you and you turned around, looking at the manager.

“Ladies, I’m gonna ha-” he started, before you cut him off.

“Wow, bro, we ain’t ladies,” you said, moving back to Tavros and wrapping an arm around him. “We’re the manliest fucking men around, obviously.”

That was a fucking lie. You were about one of the curviest people you knew, and your petite frame didn’t support that statement at all. Tavros was tall, but he had a really chubby face and frame, which you guess supported a feminine look. You thought it was fucking adorable and thought he looked hella handsome, but apparently not every asshole thought so.

The manager rolled his eyes, huffing, “Yes, okay, whatever. You do realize this is a poetry slam, right?”

“Uh, raps are technically poetry?” Tavros offered, giving a sheepish smile.

“Get out.”

And so, you and Tavros made your way out of the little coffee shop. You didn’t even realize your arm was still around him until you burst out laughing, and felt him move away from you.

“Uh, Dave?” Tavros asked, seeming concerned.

“ _ Shit _ man that was great, they all were so confused!” you laughed out.

“Heh, yeah, I guess it was,” Tavros said, grinning. “But, uh… what was that thing you said about me being cute?”

You felt your cheeks heat up again- when did you stop blushing?- as you looked at him. You cleared your throat, laughing softly. “Yeah, uh… I don’t know, y-you’re just really cute, you know.”

His cheeks flushed again and his eyes lit up. God  _ damn _ , he just got cuter by the second. He opened his mouth to answer before you heard his phone ring. He took it out and checked it, and let out a low groan. He sighed as he stepped closer to you and bit his lip- then proceeded to kiss your cheek.

“I gotta g-go, Dave, my dad needs me at work,” he said, his face bright red and you were sure yours was too. “I’ll talk to you later!”

He ran off and you saw a wide grin on his face. You touched your cheek tenderly where he kissed it. You were already counting down the seconds until you saw him again.


End file.
